Page 18 of Catching Our Moment

His arm was still around me, his hand lazily hanging off my shoulder.

I faltered slightly as my stomach flipped, and I couldn’t help but smile.

How had I gone this long without him? As we turned to walk back to the house, just as I was deciding whether to wrap my arm around his waist, he stepped away, giving us space.

Aaron jumped in front of us. “Can we? Can we come back Sunday?”

“We can talk about it later. How about thinking about dinner? Your coach here is starved.” I resisted the urge to smooth a hand over Aaron’s tousled, sweaty hair.

Shaw nudged my son’s head instead. “You were amazing today, buddy.”

“Thank you,” Aaron said. “Can Shaw eat with us?”

“Sure. I think he mentioned pizza.”

“Why don’t you two come to my place, and we will order some?” he suggested.

Aaron loved pizza. “Yes!”

We ordered pizza, and while Aaron showered, Shaw brought out a few beers, and we settled in to enjoy the evening on our front porch.

“Tyler would’ve gotten a kick out of watching him today,” Shaw said as he lowered himself into a chair beside me.

“He wouldn’t have been sitting on the sidelines like me.

He would’ve been in there, throwing the football for them—sending them sprinting down the field for those long passes that all boys love to catch. ”

I took a sip of my beer then leaned my head against the chair and studied Shaw’s silhouette. We didn’t talk about Tyler often. He had been one of us. Shaw’s best friend, the love of Gracie’s life… But after he died, it was too painful for any of us to speak openly about him.

Tyler had been the one who’d introduced Shaw to me.

He was the kid who’d told Shaw to come to football tryouts.

He had been the quarterback to Shaw’s receiver.

And like so many good men, he’d died far too young.

It had been just days away from his visit home from college to see Gracie when the accident had happened.

It had wrecked all of us—tore open our cocoon of safety and ignorance of how cruel the world was.

Enough time had passed that Shaw's mention of Tyler’s memory now only drew a sad smile from me. “I really wish he’d met Aaron.”

Shaw was looking out at the street. “Me too.”

The strangest thought almost made it past my lips . “I wonder how our story would’ve played out if Tyler had been around to intervene.” Instead, I asked, “What do you think he would’ve thought about you and your career?”

“Oh, he’d have a lot to say,” he chuckled.

“Sometimes I have dreams about him giving me shit. “What the hell were you doing in that game last night, taking a merry stroll? You run like an old man…” He imitated Tyler’s tone and cadence, which differed from Shaw’s slight drawl, and made me smile wider. “He’d have kept me grounded, I think.”

We sat with that in silence.

“He wouldn’t have let you marry James, that’s for sure.” One side of his mouth tilted up in a mock smirk.

“Shaw…”

He took a pull on his beer then swallowed and added, “Just saying. He would’ve had the guts to stand up when the preacher asked, “Is there anyone here with a reason for these two not to be married?”

I stood quickly, not wanting to have this conversation. I wasn’t ready. “There wasn’t any reason for James and me not to marry.”

Aaron walked out. “Is the pizza here?”

That wasn’t enough to stop Shaw from having the last word. In a low, rumbly voice, he said, “You had me.”

* * *

After dinner, we cleaned up, Aaron went to watch TV, and we both grew quiet. “I’m sorry about before,” he said with his back to me, tossing the paper plates in the trash. I took a perfectly nice evening and ruined it by bringing it up.”

I shook my head and waved him off. “If we want to be real with each other, I think I need to apologize for leaving the way I did and when I did.”

He shook his head, wiping down the counter with a towel. “You should’ve talked to me.”

“I’m sorry?—”

He threw down the towel. “No. Wait.” His voice began to rise before he caught himself. He looked over his shoulder to see if little ears were going to catch him.

“Aaron, we will be back out soon,” he said.

With a hand on my back, he guided me into the backyard for our best chance at privacy.

In the moonlight, he turned me around, raked his hand through his hair, and said, “I would’ve done it, you know.

” He gestured to the house. “I would’ve been his father.

I would’ve done the diapers and the midnight feedings.

I would’ve helped with the carpools and anything else?—”

“It wasn’t your responsibility?—”

“I never said it was.” His hand flew up, his voice impatient.

“It wasn’t about responsibility. I never thought of him as a responsibility.

I never thought of you as a burden.” He cupped my arms with a gentleness that didn’t match his tone and leaned into me.

“I wanted to do it. I wanted to do all of it.”

I guess we were doing this. Fine.

I stepped back from him. “Shaw, I love my son with my whole heart, but I’m more convinced than ever that I did the right thing. It wasn’t a cakewalk. In contrast, you had an amazing career filled with unbelievable experiences.”

“It didn’t matter.” The words burst out of him, to both of our surprise. He took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes, gathering more composure before saying, “You made a decision and took off without talking to me about it.”

“I did what I thought?—”

“Was I incapable of making rational decisions? We were both young, but we

were adults. I was completely aware of what was at stake. I was also aware of all the zeros on my check and that my salary was enough to support us.”

“You’re a good guy, Shaw?—”

“Oh, jeez…” He turned his back on me and covered his face.

“You would’ve considered it the right thing to do—to take care of me. Both because of our friendship and?—”

“From the moment you told me you were pregnant, I wanted to be part of his life.” He held up his hand. “Please stop telling me what was best for me.”

I stepped closer. “My father and I didn’t want you to feel responsible for the road I would be traveling.”

“Your father…" His face darkened.

“Yes, he…” I swallowed and cleared my throat. “He realized our intentions and told me that if I truly cared about you, I’d cut you free. He was right. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you.”

“That’s bullshit. And I will be calling Coach to tell him that. He—" Shaw clenched his jaw and stepped away, pulling out his phone as if to call my father at that moment. I grabbed it from him.

“Shaw, don’t. It’s in the past.”

He tore the phone out of my hands. He stepped so close I drew back. “Tell me one thing. One thing, and I will drop it.”

I gripped my fingers, not wanting to hear what came next.

“Did you want to marry him?” He stepped even closer—closer than he’d been in a long time.

Crap. I knew he’d ask that. “What? Of course, at the time…”

His eyes were all I could see. “Don’t…lie…to me.” His voice dipped. “If James had never come back…if he hadn’t said he wanted to marry you…”

The truth I held back for years broke out from inside me. “You didn’t love me,” I said quietly, pathetically. “You pitied me.” The tears pooled in my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks. “I could never do that to you. I didn’t want to be married to someone who didn’t love me.”

His expression was hard as stone, frozen in one expression. He stared at me like I was a stranger. I was the first to look away, incapable of making eye contact after he struck the blow. “But you did. You married James.”

We stood for an indeterminate amount of time until I said, “This is pointless. It’s history. It didn’t work out. I have a wonderful son I adore, and you can say, ‘I told you so.’”

I took off inside the house and beelined to my room, acting like the teenager I’d been when we’d loved each other so well.